


Love amongst the flowers

by NMartin



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Romance, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 14:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMartin/pseuds/NMartin
Summary: When Jane goes through the worst experience in her life one night at a club, she gets support from her ex boss, forcing a shift in their relationship.





	1. The Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this story starts a little heavily, which was not what I intended at first. Still, I have the feeling it will mean a lot further into the story.
> 
> Trigger warning: Rape attempt, sexual assault.

Jane looked at the bartender as he poured another shot, the salt and lime already prepared on the counter. Anyone would think that, for her short height, five tequila shots in one night would be a huge mistake. And they were not wrong, but she had decided that it wouldn’t be the biggest mistake she had done that week. Or that month, for all that mattered. She thanked the bartender and smiled, ignoring the man’s gaze as he looked down at her chest. She had to admit that she had decided to wear a revealing dress in order to try and get some action, it had been too much time since she had had a casual rendezvous. But, she was not having the sexualization that the bartender put her— and all the other clients— through. She turned her head to look over at the dance floor, where Kat and Adena swayed their hips together, following the beat of the song and looking at each other as if this were their last night together. Jane had to admit, sometimes she felt a hint of jealousy, a small and healthy amount considering how happy she was for her friend. Women did not have to compete, and so their achievements, personal advances and relationship status never mattered to the three of them.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Sutton, telling her that she had arrived home safely, made her smile. The blonde girl had begged for them to stay instead of ending the fun and going home with her, as she was feeling sick and only wanted to go home and sleep. Sutton was working hard, having more and more duties after the success of the accessory photoshoot with Adena. Jane grinned, the other had sent her a picture in her adorable and new bunny pajamas. Sutton had a thing for bunny pajamas, which Jane did not fully understand but supported completely. If her friend had to have an addiction, she preferred it to be that.

She closed her eyes as a song started, the memories flooding her mind. She remembered a day when she stayed late for work, writing the article for the sex column that Jacqueline had wanted her to write. Back then, never having had an orgasm before and feeling deeply uncomfortable with the idea of writing about sex, it had been something she struggled with. And so, that night she had put on her Spotify playlist and listened to it as she tried to get the words flow.  _ I miss working there,  _ she thought as she licked her lips, the sour flavor of the lime being a casual reminder of how she felt towards Jacqueline’s decision of not accepting her back in  _ Scarlet _ .

_ “... You want to feel safe, and you think that if I fix this, everything will get back on track.” _

The woman’s words had hit her like a brick, her hope of going back to the place she thought as home being destroyed in a matter of seconds.  _ Scarlet  _ had been her home for a long time, and going away only reinforced that idea. She had wanted to answer to the woman, to explain how she felt, to convince her to please hire her again. But at the same time, she knew that Jacqueline was right, and that the decision of leaving was something she had to carry on her shoulders like a boulder. She had to learn from this experience, make every move she could to get back on track and become the writer she was expected to be. She had made lists, planned every single thing and gotten more job interviews, but there was something that pushed her back and made her cry at nights. She would not find a boss and mentor like Jacqueline Carlyle.

She couldn’t lie, if  _ Scarlet  _ was her home it was because of the woman. In the end, it was Jacqueline the one that pulled the strings and helped making the magazine work as fine as it did. But most important, it was the woman who made her heart stop every morning, as she walked past her office and glanced only to see the woman work for a few seconds. The pantsuits, the dresses, the accessories, she stared at them and appreciated their beauty every day, hoping to one day be as beautiful and successful as the woman, but also craving to admire them from closer. And if she had to be honest, she was sure that she would not find the woman’s clothing so attractive if it weren’t because, in fact, she had a crush on her.

She remembered the first day as a writer in  _ Scarlet,  _ how in awe she was when she got to the office and the only thing that she could see before her friends dragged her into the fashion closet were the woman’s feet. She wore a pair of red heels, and despite not being quite interested in any kind of foot fetish, Jane had realized that just with a pair of heels she could feel attracted to someone. And when she had seen her in the whole outfit, the embrace of the skinny leg of the pants she wore, the red blazer, it almost were too much.

_ Having a crush on your boss. The best thing you could do before you left the magazine, you stupid and horny drama queen,  _ she had told herself many nights after leaving  _ Scarlet _ . Many nights she went to bed asking herself, when would she be able to see the woman again, that maybe if she tried walking past the editorial she’d  _ ‘accidentally’  _ bump into the woman. But every time she brushed the idea away, telling herself that that would be a sad, stalker-ish move, and quite inappropriate.

But oh, she would kill to walk past the woman’s office one more time, to see her as she focused on her laptop screen and smirked at the body positive photoshoot Adena and Sutton had brought to life. She wondered, if the woman had been able to recognize her somehow, if she was proud of her for going out of her comfort zone. If maybe, she had felt attracted to her bare skin, as she did every time she saw the woman’s collarbone.

She had a thing for collarbones.

She sighed, feeling the tequila burn her insides and joining the heat of thinking about the woman. She tried to get Kat’s attention from the bar, but it seemed impossible as she and her girlfriend were lost in their kiss. She spinned and walked towards the entrance of the club, letting the security guard mark her wrist with an invisible stamp and then looking around her. The night was a little chilly, and so there weren’t many people waiting in line to enter the club. She felt the cold breeze hit her face and inhaled deeply, enjoying it for a few seconds before noticing that something was different tonight. It took her many seconds until she realized, her gaze going towards the club across the street.  _ Guantanamera,  _ the sign read. It was brand new, and shone brightly in the middle of the night. Many people crowded the street, going in and out of the club in shiny sequin dresses, drinking mojitos and taking selfies. Apparently, it was the club’s first night open.

Someone patted her shoulder. “You okay?” a dark skinned girl asked her, her neon dress blinding Jane for a second before she gave her a quick nod. “We can call you an Uber if you want.”

“No uh- thanks. I’m good. I- I just-” she felt her insides turn, the tequila shooting up her throat. “Oh, crap.” was all she was able to say before she had to make a run for her life. She reached the narrow, dark alley next to the bar just in time, throwing up behind a dumpster. Everything around her smelled awful, and it only made her want to throw up again and again. She was sure this was not the tequila, but the anxiety she had been carrying these past days. She hated being unemployed, she hated staying at home all day. Not even going out for lunch with Ben, or partying with her friends, distracted her from the fact that she was an anxious mess. She wiped her mouth and turned around.

A man was standing behind her. Pale skin, a defined jaw, she could not recognize him. She inhaled in deeply, frightened by the sudden presence of the man. It was when she was about to ask him what he wanted when he pushed her back behind the dumpster, the back of her head hitting the brick wall. She felt like throwing up again, although nothing came out of her mouth. Her head spun, making her unable to identify the touch of the hands that trapped her against the wall. It felt like a nightmare come to life. She looked at the man, her vision blurry from all the alcohol. She realized, she had to scream. A hand covered her opening mouth, the man shushing her. “Scream and you’re not getting out of here alive.” he claimed in a deep, threatening voice. His face turned, then went back to looking at her with a dismal grin. No one had realized what was going on. Her vision became blurry, her screams drowned in her own throat. His hand moved to her hair, twisting a few strands of hair before pulling. “You’re gonna be useful tonight, girl. Get on your knees.” he ordered, making her let out a whimper as she was pulled down. She struggled, moving against him, squirming, unable to escape. He looked in her eyes, the blue in his eyes cold. “Come on girl, don’t make me hit you.” he said, pulling from her hair again. This time the strength of his grip threw her harshly on her knees. She could smell her own vomit under her. Her tights became wet, a liquid running down her legs as tears fell over her face. She could not do anything to avoid what was going to happen. And no one could save her.

“Hey, hey!” a voice yelled from the corner of the alley, footsteps approaching rapidly. Strong and threatening, the voice got louder as the person approached. “I’m calling the police, stop that right now!”

It was a woman. Voices were heard approaching after her, the man finally letting go of Jane’s hair. Her head fell onto the ground, her cheek meeting the cold, wet ground. She saw his feet run away from her, the blurred vision of black shoes the only thing she remembered before everything went black.


	2. Waking up

Jane turned around, looking at the woman that slept peacefully on the armchair. Covered with the jacket of her pantsuit, she had her head tilted towards the window, the first rays of sun illuminating her profile. She had a strong jawline, lips tilted in a smirk. A few strands of blonde hair had loosened up, something that Jane had never seen. The woman was always so flawless in her own imperfection, always speaking about how she was far from being perfect and defending that she did not spend more than half an hour on getting ready every morning. And yet it took Jane an hour to get herself to look decent and go to work, only to look not even as half as good as the older woman did. She smiled to herself.

To her, no one would look even as half as good as Jacqueline, ever.

The woman turned on the couch and Jane closed her eyes instinctively, pretending to be asleep. “Come on, Jane. I know you’re awake.” she heard the woman say. The girl opened her eyes and looked at her superior. Jacqueline was now standing, stretching her back and approaching the bed. Their eyes met for a second, Jacqueline’s everlasting smirk switching to an almost maternal, caring smile. Jane smiled, the part of her that saw the woman as a mother figure taking over the crush she had on her. It was moments like this when she could not see anything but a woman who looked at her as a daughter figure, which comforted her and yet saddened her at the same time. They had met each other years ago, and Jane could see their relationship evolve more and more with every passing day. When she started working in Scarlet she did not know that the woman would become more than just a boss, the same way that a few months before she wouldn’t have guessed that she would become more than just a mentor. But, did she really want their relationship to evolve into a motherly one? After all, she felt something sexual towards the woman, which would weird anyone out considering how this moment felt.

Jane’s feelings were a mess.

But so was she.

“How are you feeling?” the woman asked, pouring water into a plastic cup and looking at the girl. Jane looked at her in silence, observing the white bodysuit the woman wore as she took the cup. It left her shoulders uncovered, and displayed more cleavage than her clothes usually did. It was much more of a cheerful look than the ones the woman wore to work, and yet it fit her personality perfectly.

“I’m…” she took a sip, trying to identify where the pain she felt came from. She remembered falling to the ground, her vision blurry. Her hand moved instinctively to the back of her head, not feeling anything abnormal. “I don’t know. My head hurts.”

“Your head hit the wall quite hard. Fortunately, they’ve ruled out any options of it being serious. You’ve been unconscious for…” the woman looked down at her watch. “It was almost two in the morning when I got out of  _ Guantanamera _ , and now it’s almost six, so… four hours.”

“ _ Guantanamera _ ?”

“The salsa club across the street from where you went last night.”

“Oh yeah, I saw it. Sutton mentioned that it opened last— Oh my god.” Jane shook her head, realizing that her friends had no idea where she was. She immediately sat up, trying to take off the cables that connected her to the monitor. She was about to rip the oximeter from her finger when Jacqueline’s hands fell on her shoulders pushing her back on the bed. As carefully as she could, the woman made her lie down, placing her against the pillows. “But Sutton, and Kat, they don’t know I’m he—”

“Calm down. Your friends know you’re here and being taken care of.”

“Can I text them?”

“Of course.” the woman turned and took Jane’s belongings from a plastic bag. “Your purse and clothing will be sent to the dry cleaner as soon as it opens, and Andrew will be here with a change of clothes fresh from your beloved  _ Scarlet  _ fashion closet. Meanwhile, you’ll have to survive with a plastic bag and a hospital gown.” she smirked, taking the phone out of the bag and unlocking it, then handing it to Jane. “Here, text your friends.”

“Did you just… unlock my phone?”

“Kat messaged me with the PIN number. It’s nice to know your password is the day you started working in  _ Scarlet _ .”

“It means a lot to me.”

“That’s something we have in common.”

* * *

 

The girl looked down as the two policemen left the room, fidgeting with her fingers. She felt something inside of her that made her uneasy, the feeling of guilt making her want to vomit. She guessed her friends had become tired of waiting outside, as they stormed out into the room with gloomy looks. Jane guessed they had overheard her statement, as they avoided looking at her in the eyes. “We’re sorry.” Kat said, biting down on her lip. “We should have been with you.”

“What?”

“We shouldn’t have left you alone. I shouldn’t have been with Adena all night.”

“Kat, she’s your girlfriend, you have all right to be with her whenever you want. It’s not like you forget about us when you’re with her.”

“Yeah, and it was me who left Jane alone while you two danced. I should have stayed a little bit more with her and not leave her alone.”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you two right now.” Jacqueline said, closing the book she was reading and standing up. The bags under her eyes started to show, the base makeup that covered her face fading slowly. She had insisted on staying in the room during Jane’s statement, silently waiting next to the girl as the two men asked questions one after another. The woman refused to leave her side, and Jane felt that she was protected from all evil with just her presence. “You two need to stop victimizing yourselves. The only guilty one in a situation like this is the aggressor. None of us, not you or you, or Jane. It doesn’t matter how much you had to drink, or how sick you felt, or how you kept dancing with Adena. What matters it that a man decided to take advantage of your friend, and that if it hadn’t been her, it would have been any other girl. Any woman can find themselves alone in an empty street at any point of their life, but not every woman has friends to support her after this happens to them. We, as the support group that Jane has right now, cannot start blaming ourselves. What we have to do is to be here for her, to help her with anything she needs, even if what she needs is for us to not to be here. We need to stop blaming ourselves for men’s actions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and so I decided to make it shorter. I hope that it shows the feeling of guilt that women share whenever one of our sisters is assaulted, and how we need to change that.


	3. Peach roses and heathers

Jacqueline read the last article one of the writers had sent to her as she took a sip of coffee. She frowned as she realized that lately, none of the writers seemed to be able to capture the feeling she wanted to show in the most heartfelt articles of the last number of the magazine. Since she participated in Jane’s article about Mia, the sexual assault survivor, the woman had realized that she could use the platform that Scarlet was to change the world’s view over problematic issues, or at least more than she did at the moment. Sure, creating events for women to learn more about feminism and self-esteem and encouraging them to fight the system by masturbating with different kinds of sex toys was great, but she felt the magazine had missed the criticising tone it was supposed to have. She had to admit, it was thanks to Jane that she had been able to see the magazine from another point of view. From the moment the redhead had told her story, of how Scarlet had been the older sister she had never had, Jacqueline had realized that the magazine meant much more than just being a way of putting women together. It was a way to start a revolution, even if it was a small one.

A knock on the door took her out of her musings. She looked up and watched a delivery guy walk into her office, a quite small bouquet of flowers in his hands. They were peach colored roses, which were not Jacqueline’s favourites but that looked smart and delicate. A small card could be seen in between them, hanging from one of the stems with a red string. “Delivery for Jacqueline Carlyle. Where should I leave them?”

“Here.” she told, observing him as he moved towards her table and left the flowers on her desk. He gave her a small nod, wished her a good day and left. It wasn’t until he had disappeared into the elevator when she moved forward and took the small card in her hands.

**_< <Thanks for what you did on Saturday. — J. Sloan >>_ **

The woman raised a brow as a smile drew on her face, her eyes focused on the name. There was something inside of her, a small tingling of her stomach, that appeared every time she read or heard that name. It was a kind of excitement she hadn’t felt in years, an eagerness to know more about the girl. To hear her voice again, to read more of her articles. A small yet irresistible hope that, someday, the girl would walk back into her office again.

She rolled her eyes.

_ You are NOT developing a crush on her, Jacqueline Carlyle. I forbid you. _

* * *

 

It had been a week since the incident at the club, and Jane started to feel trapped in the bucle her life had become. She woke up, spent her morning doing chores, then went to the cafeteria. Sitting down, as she stared at the blank document that were supposed to be her new articles— after finishing her last one, she had run out of ideas— and as she sent her resume to magazines she had no interest working on, she felt the sting of being a freelance. Her financial situation was a mess, she could not even afford to get a cold. She was sure Ben was going to get bored of staying home all the time, despite everything went extremely well between them. Too well actually, which made her suspect something would go wrong soon. And maybe, just maybe, it would have something to do with Pinstripe and her meeting at the cafeteria. Ben and her weren’t exclusive, they had never stated it, but something inside of her told her that his religious side wouldn’t be happy about her dating other men.

But she missed the thrill of exploring her sexual boundaries with Pinstripe. The thrill of going out to clubs and dancing with strangers, of being careless when it came to showing off her body when she moved on the dancefloor. She could notice the change even in the way she dressed, covering more her cleavage and legs. Skirts had been forgotten in her closet, and her friends didn’t seem to notice the slight change in her way of interacting with men. The only person who knew that, was the therapist she had started seeing, twice a week— paid with the small amount of money she had in her bank account. The woman had told her that it was good that she hadn’t closed completely and that she hadn’t decided to not to have sex with Ben because of the actions of a stranger, which made sense considering she had had sex with Ben before the incident happened. But still, she sometimes found herself in a missionnaire position, waiting for the orgasm to happen— which didn’t most of the times.

Pinstripe entered the cafeteria at the same moment she stood up, ready to leave. She smiled at him cockily, yet in an awkward way. “No working together today?” he asked with surprise on his face, as if he wanted to spend time with her. She shook her head and walked next to him, opening the door and leaving without saying anything else. She felt exhausted, many questions in her mind. What consequences and sequels would leave the assault on her? Had she gone back to not having orgasms again? Would she be able to have a healthy relationship for once? She conserved her sex drive, but why did she feel blocked when taking off her clothes? And why did that block disappear so quickly once she was undressed? Would this be the new normal Jacqueline had talked about when she gave her her testimony about being a sexual assault survivor?

She got home as she reflected on what sex meant for her, as she had always been quite monogamous. She looked down at her phone as it buzzed, a message from Sutton telling her they were going to Kat’s for dinner that same night. She did not notice the delivery guy that stood in front of her door until she almost bumped into him. “Oh, hi.”

“Jane Sloan?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Perfect. These are for you.” he smiled at her as he handed her a small bouquet of heather flowers. She did not recognize the type of flowers they were, and ignored the meaning they had, but se thought Ben was sweet for sending her flowers after seeing each other the day before. She grinned and opened the door of her apartment, entering quickly and leaving the bouquet on top of the counter as she tried to find a vase to put the flowers on. In the end, she put them in a cup and hoped that they wouldn’t fall to the ground. She took the phone and started to type. “Thanks… for the flowers.” she muttered to herself. “Kiss emoji.. kiss emoji.”

She sat on the couch and started the tv, wanting to rest for a while before going back to doing chores. Her phone buzzed almost immediately after she left it next to her, a text from Ben appearing on the screen.  _ “Did not send you flowers. Check for a card before thanking someone…” _

Jane gasped, jumping out of the couch with the phone in her hands. Eagerly grasping for the flowers, she looked around only to find a small card hanging from one of the stems with a golden string.

**_< <No need to thank me. Read your last article. Congratulations on the good job. — J. Carlyle >>_ **

The girl’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide as she read and reread the note. Her heart beat fast, her mouth dry as she realized the effort the woman had made. Jacqueline, instead of calling or texting her, had taken the time and spent the money to send her flowers. She raised a brow.  _ Well, now Kat really can’t say that Jacqueline doesn’t care about me. _


	4. Flowers and Champagne

Jane entered the photography studio in a rush, holding her jacket and purse as she wondered how would it be to pose next to one of the most influential women in the editing industry, and to have the pictures taken posted everywhere she could think of. Would she be more nervous than when she posted a controvertic article? More nervous than when she presented her ideas to the woman? Would that nervousness have to do with the feelings she had towards Jacqueline?

“Hi. Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh! It’s okay.” the woman left the phone on a box and turned to her. As usual, the woman looked beautiful, although as Jane approached she realized that the woman wore foundation and the makeup she wore was heavier than normally. Jane guessed they became more obvious because of the lightning, but within seconds she was sure that whatever the changes were on the woman’s face, she didn’t like them. And yet, she was in awe by her beauty, and her smile. And who was she to judge what the woman did or wore?   “Congratulations on the nomination. It’s a big deal for you.” Jacqueline’s tone was completely neutral, as if she had no interest on making small talk. “Big deal for Scarlet.” she added, turning to the camera. Was Jacqueline uncomfortable around her for some reason? Or was it just Jane’s imagination?

“Thank you… and congrats to you too.”

They looked at the camera, with the feeling that they only wanted to avert their eyes from one another. After unexpectedly being made to seat down, Jacqueline finally asked the girl what was going on in Jane’s life. The girl found herself telling the older woman about her new article, how she was going to do a follow up to show the domino effect Jacqueline’s declaration had on other women. Seating next to her, she felt somehow inferior to her, but at the same time she felt that she deserved better than the pantomime they seemed to be doing in front of the camera.

“Well, it seems that the freelance lifestyle is working out for you.”

The woman’s words hurt more than she could have imagined. It was a silent  _ I told you so _ that made Jane become little for a few seconds, only recompose herself and to mask that feeling of insecurity with more words. She started rambling about her article about women’s healthcare, hoping to see a slight reaction from the woman. But Jacqueline did not seem to miss Jane and her talent, not as an editor.

“I’m happy to see you happy, Jane.”

“Thank you.”

“And now I have to run.”

“Oh, right, wednesday afternoon. Pitch meeting.” she nodded. “See you at the awards!”

“Yes, you will!”

_ And I can’t wait. Even if I know it will hurt. _

* * *

 

Jacqueline sat down on the couch of her apartment as she wrapped a golden ribbon around the bouquet of gladiolus she had bought in the local flower shop. Wearing a long oversized t-shirt, she looked at Frieda beg for her attention at her feet, looking at her with sad eyes. “Give me five minutes, Frieda. I have to finish this.” she whispered, patting the dog’s head and then taking the pen in her hands.

**< < Congratulations on the award nomination. I’m really glad to be able to experience this with you** **_. — J. Carlyle >>_ **

“Gladiolus.” she heard her husband as he walked towards the kitchen, looking at her with an interested look. Jacqueline hadn’t sent anyone a bouquet of flowers in years, so it was clear to Ian that they were for someone important. “They mean strength and moral integrity… Who are they for?”

“Jane Sloan.”

“Well, she definitely will need strength if she keeps working as a freelance... How is she doing? Has she written something new?”

“Oh yes, she told me everything about her new articles, and her job opportunities. She was almost like a little girl wanting for her mother’s approval.”

“Well, she probably just misses  _ Scarlet _ . When will you give her her job back? You won’t stop complaining about how none of the other writers have her fresh point of view.”

“Depends.”

“Well, considering how much you’ve helped her, you’re probably the closest she has to a mother figure. Don’t be mean to her.”

The woman sighed.  _ The closest she has to a mother figure… it’s a shame I’m starting to see her as something completely different. _

* * *

 

Standing up with her silver dress on, Jacqueline listened to the girl as the gala started. She could not believe what she was hearing, and although the woman’s face did not show any change in her emotions, her voice started to crack as she spoke. She was still processing the information Jane had just given her, her heart sinking as the words repeated in her head.  _ She was assaulted by the same man that assaulted you.  _ Jacqueline inhaled deeply. There was another woman, in that very same city, that had experienced the exact same thing she had twenty years ago. Another woman that had felt the same despair and vulnerability she had. Had she been unable to continue with her life as she had done before, like had happened to Jacqueline? Had she had nightmares, or had been unable to reveal her body to anyone after that?  _ She is upset with you.  _ Her stomach twisted with guilt, and she could feel the temperature of the room rising as she got more nervous. Finally, they heard the woman announce they had to take their seats. She almost ran away.

“The ceremony is beginning.”

During the ceremony she could feel Jane looking at her from across the table every few seconds. She held hands with her boyfriend, Ben, and it made Jacqueline feel that she was being examined. She would not let the girl know that she was devastated inside. She turned to her husband for a second as the presenter read the names of the nominees, taking his hand in hers. She quickly let go, looking down. There was something that made her feel small inside, unable to feel comfortable in her dress, or someone’s touch on her skin. She felt the anxiety grow inside of her, and soon the flashbacks came to her mind. She looked at Jane, but instead she saw herself as she took the award in her hands. She was 20 years younger, her lips plump and her hair styled like a character from  _ Friends.  _ And as she stood up there, thanking everyone for an article that was supposed to be revolutionary back then, she looked into the crowd and saw him. Always watching, her superior looked at her with a smug smile on her face, knowing what he had done to her. Her rapist, who at that time was not her boss anymore but that was always invited to these events, would never let her forget him.

Jane mentioned her name and she snapped back into reality, realizing that she needed to focus on the good things that were happening that night. She couldn’t think of anyone better to have written her story, and yet she wished the girl did not have to carry the weight with her. Everyone clapped for her now, and she gave a gracious smile. She started to become conscious of Jane’s words, of how the girl talked about her as if she was a perfect, almost ethereal being that could only contribute with good things to this world.

It was as if Jane saw her the same way she saw Jane.

* * *

 

Jane smiled and let go of Ben’s hand. She saw Sutton and Kat taking the chance to empty the bottles of champagne that had been forgotten in some tables, while some writers and editors talked on the hall. She turned and made her way to the toilets, desperate to take off the shoes she wore and change them for a pair of flats she had in her purse. She entered one of the stalls and closed the door, sitting down and taking a few seconds to reflect on how she felt. She had finally moved on, and tonight had been the way of saying goodbye to Scarlet. A weight had been taken from her shoulders, despite another one had appeared every time she had taken a sip of champagne. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could feel the taste of the drinks she had had  _ that night.  _ With every step she had taken towards the stage, she had been able to see the steps she had taken towards the alley. With every word she spoke, she remembered the man’s threats. She swallowed hard.

Walking out of the stall, she did not expect  _ her  _ to be there. She hadn’t even heard her walk into the toilets. Looking at herself in the mirror, Jacqueline graciously fixed some wild strands of her hair. “Oh, hello.” the woman spoke when she saw her through the reflection, her usual smile finally appearing. Still, it seemed fake, as if the confidence the woman showed was in fact not there. Jane looked down. She could not ignore that, since their previous conversation, Jacqueline had spent all night ignoring her. In fact, she had been unable to even look at her. Had the fact that there was another woman with the same story as her made her uncomfortable? Was she sad? Was she hurt? “Your speech was exquisite. I’m really proud of you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. As your mentor, seeing you on that stage, holding an award and speaking about your article with so much passion, it fills me with joy and pride.”

“It did not look like that during the ceremony.”

“Excuse me?”

“You did not look at me even once during the dinner.” Jane looked down and sighed. She bit her lip and sighed, then walked towards the woman. “You did not talk to me, or acknowledge my presence. It was as if since I told you about this woman I disappeared to you. Your husband interacted more with me than you did tonight, and my article is about  _ you _ . I was giving my speech and you looked at me with that resting bitch-face, and— I know I shouldn’t have said bitch-face, but it’s the truth. Even when you smiled, it was cold. I felt that somehow you despised me or something.” she crossed her arms. “And then, when I was walking towards you to tell you that this reporter wanted a picture of us together at the gala, you suddenly turned around and walked away without letting me talk to you.”

“Jane, I—”

“I just— I feel that it is not okay for you to treat me like this. As my editor—  _ ex editor _ — you can’t just ignore me in the night I receive my first award, and even less when my article is about you.”

“Jane, please listen to me...” the woman spoke with a soft voice, her hand moving to the girl’s shoulder. Jane immediately stopped talking, looking at the woman with surprise, the touch of her hand against her skin unexpected. All the anger she had inside turned into confusion, never having received a display of affection from the woman. She froze. “Jane, it is true I was avoiding you, but it is not because I despise you. In fact, I…”  _ I like you Jane. I really do.  _ “I admire you, Jane. And I was avoiding you because I have a conflict inside of me right now, and I did not want you to distract yourself tonight. From the moment you told me about this woman, my inner demons have come back. During all the gala I have been thinking about my female colleagues and thinking that some of them might have been his victims too. I have been struggling with the thought of calling them, if there was something I could do. But, since this woman had moved on with her life until I spoke about this, maybe me contacting these women would reopen old wounds. And I…” she sighed. “He’s dead. It wouldn’t make anything better.”

“I see.” the girl took a step closer to the woman and put her hand on her arm, trembling slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It was me the one who decided I would ignore you so you wouldn’t see how devastated I was inside.”

“But why? Precisely I… I understand.”

“Exactly. And I did not want you to see how broken you can be after something like this. I can’t help but see myself in you, and when you were walking up that stage I remembered that when I won my first award he was there, watching me. For a second, I felt…” the woman’s voice cracked and she turned around, hiding her tears from the girl. It was too much for her. “ I felt he was looking at you too.”

“Jacqueline....” the girl walked around the woman and stood in front of her again, looking at her and raising her hand to wipe the tears from the woman’s cheek. Jacqueline let out a soft sob, looking away from her. It was the first time that she was vulnerable in front of someone other than her husband and children. She could feel Jane still looking at her, unable to say much. For the first time, Jacqueline had opened about how she felt to the girl, about how it could hurt. Finally she looked at Jane.

“I’m sorry. It seems the champagne has made me emotional.”

“Me too.” Jane said and inhaled in deeply, losing herself in the beauty of the woman’s eyes. She felt that she could spend eternity looking at these teary eyes, the blue color captivating her every time she looked at them. But, if there was one thing that made her divert her eyes, were the woman’s lips. She looked down, licking her own as she made a decision she knew would ruin any chance of working in Scarlet again. She probably would not see Jacqueline ever again, so what did she have to lose?

She moved forward and pushed her lips against the woman’s.


	5. Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for not updating for so long, I have been on holidays and when I've had time to write I had no inspiration at all. I'm not really proud of how it has turned out, but I hope you guys like it!

Jane’s lips met the woman’s with force, eyes shut as she wished that what she was doing would not turn into a walking nightmare when regrets started to appear. Her heart raced, pounding inside of her as she felt the woman’s hands move around, not knowing what to do in that situation. _She is going to hate me. I am going to lose all respect she had for me, and all because of a childish crush and my stupid lack of impulse control when it comes to her..._ she thought. Although she had always been the kind of person who overthought everything, there was something that clicked when she thought about Jacqueline, that made her lose all sense of right or wrong. _I can’t believe I’m doing this, I shouldn't have done it. I’m going to die. I’m already dying inside. I should stop kissing her. I totally should stop kissing her._

The girl was about to pull back when she felt Jacqueline’s hands on her waist, keeping her close as she kissed her back. The woman’s grip was strong, the same that she used when she shook hands at work.  _ Oh my god, is she kissing me back?  _ Jane’s eyes opened wide as she parted her lips, the woman’s tongue entering her mouth almost immediately. Jacqueline Carlyle was kissing  _ her _ . It was a rushed kiss, the both of them lost in the moment as they moved. Jane felt the woman pushing her against the sink, making her take a step back and lean against it. Jacqueline’s hands subtly moved to the redhead’s hips, while her own hands moved to the woman’s cheek, holding her face as she got more into the kiss. Jane let out a soft moan— whether it was because the woman was a good kisser or because it was different to kiss a woman than a man, Jane was sure this was the best kiss she had ever had.

The woman seemed to think the same, but as Jacqueline was about to move her hands to her back, the door opened. Jane was pushed away and stood there not knowing what to do. The woman had turned around and looking to the mirror, covering her mouth with a paper towel and facing away from the door. She kept fixing her makeup as Jane realized it was Sutton who had entered the toilet.

“Oh wow, looks like Ben was totally getting it on…” the blonde laughed, making Jane even more conscious about her smudged lipstick. Sutton’s laughter stopped when she realized who was standing right beside her, not needing to see her face to know it was Jacqueline. “Oh, I’m sorry.” she muttered before running into a stall, hiding in embarrassment. A giggle was heard from inside. The redhead sighed.

“I, uh… I have to go.” Jane told, looking down and then running her fingers on her lips. She shook her head, looked in the mirror and fixed her lipstick as best as she could. “It was great to see you today, Jacqueline. Have a good night.” she spoke with sadness in her voice, well aware that Sutton hadn’t even started to pee to pay attention to them. She looked at the woman for one last time before running away.

* * *

 

Days later, Jane found herself jumping and giggling around the fashion closet for five minutes straight, unable to do anything but celebrate the fact that she was back in Scarlet. Kat and Sutton finally let go of her and dropped themselves on the floor, lying down as Jane explained that she had been called by Jacqueline’s assistant, telling her that the woman wanted to see her. “Basically she read my article, and I thought she was going to be mad at me for—” she fell silent, unable to say the truth. There was something inside of her that made her doubt everything that was happening between her and the woman these last days. “I thought she would be mad about writing about Elena in the article. Apparently they have been talking and they are going to work together to create safe spaces for assault survivors.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I know.”

“But why did she ask you to come back?” Sutton said with a frown. “She said no the first time, how did she change her mind?.”

Jane swallowed. She had been thinking about that same question for days, spending sleepless nights wondering if she had gotten her job back because of what had happened between Jacqueline and her. “She said that when I asked for my job back I was in a place of fear, and that I wasn’t ready at that moment, but that with my article and how I am behaving these days…” she shrugged. “I guess she feels I deserve to be back.”

“Well, you definitely do.”

“Yeah! We missed you!”

“I know. But there is something that is making me feel weird about this.” she started, standing up and walking around the room. “I have to tell you something, and I need you to promise that what I say in the fashion closet stays in the fashion closet.”

“Okay…”

“What’s wrong?”

“So, before, when I was in Jacqueline’s office, there was something that she said that was odd. When she was talking to me, she said  _ ‘We missed you’,  _ and that is normal. But then, she looked at me and said, ‘ _ I missed you’. _ It’s like… well, she emphasized the ‘ _ I’.  _ She didn’t say  _ ‘I missed you’.  _ It was not just her talking about work and stuff. She said  _ ‘I’ _ missed you.”

“Okay, that’s kinda weird, but doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, well… There is something you don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think Jacqueline said she missed me because I kissed her at the gala.”

“WHAT?!”

* * *

 

“So...?” Jane asked two hours later as Sutton and Kat walked out of the building. After dropping the bomb on her best friends, as they processed what she had just told them, they had had to leave the fashion closet almost immediately. Leaving the team of the fashion department doing their job, they had decided to do as if nothing had happened and just process the information that Jane had given them— that she had a crush on her boss, that she had kissed her, that she had felt a change on the woman’s behavior towards her from the moment their lips had met. “Have you processed...  _ the thing _ ?”

“Honestly, no.” Sutton stated, shrugging and then looking at the redhead. They walked down the street, Sutton looking around to make sure no one they knew heard their conversation. “Understand me, she is the editor of  _ Scarlet.  _ I see her like an ethereal, non-sexual being who reigns over all us.”

“I kinda get it.” Kat said, shrugging and then smiling. “Like, she is a woman who occupies a position of power and looks great while doing it. She would be my type if—”

“If you liked women?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

“Jacqueline Carlyle,  _ Scarlet _ ’s hottest MILF.” Sutton laughed, making her friends roll her eyes.

“Ugh I hate that word.”

“MILF?”

“Yeah. It’s a word designed to separate attractive women who are a certain age from the ones that are not according to men. Misogynistic  _ af. _ ”

“True.”

“Can we focus? Please.” Jane let out a sigh as they turned around the corner, walking past a flower shop. Sutton stopped on her tracks. The other two looked at her with a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

“I think you should send her flowers.” the blonde said.

“Flowers?”

“You said she sent you flowers for the nomination.” Sutton explained, oblivious to the fact that the flowers that were placed on Jane’s nightstand were from the woman too. “Besides, guys send flowers to apologize all the time. Why can’t we?”

“Yes Jane. Man up!”

* * *

 

The woman raised a brow as a messenger entered her office, a man holding a small bush in a blue pot smiling at her. She took it, examining it slightly before noticing he left an envelope on the desk. Thanking him and giving him a tip, she went back at examining the plant. She soon realized it was ivy, a plant used to apology. She did not need to open the envelope that inside, a note written by Jane waited for her to read it. She called her assistant and told him to make Jane come to her office as she took the small note that the messenger had left on the desk.

**< < I’m sorry for what I did. I hope it doesn’t affect our relationship** **_. — J. Sloan >>_ **

Jacqueline furrowed her brows as she read the sentences a few times. She did not know how to feel about what had happened, and though she did not worry about it— she had more important things to think about, like getting the damn number of their magazine out without any trouble— she had to admit that she thought more about it than she would want to. The girl had been a constant in her brain, how she should approach the situation she was in without hurting anyone. And so she had decided to ignore it, act as if nothing had happened. She had made the decision of rehiring Jane before their kiss, and she would not take a step back on that. But what should she tell the girl? One side of her knew that she could not do this, that she was in a position of power and that it could harm both their careers. But there was another side of her that wanted to see where this could go, if it could work. Jane was mature enough to have a relationship, but was she mature enough to have a relationship with a woman, who was much older than her and her boss?

The redhead knocked on the door and Jacqueline looked up from the note, smiling kindly at her as she signaled for her to come in. “Andrew said you wanted to see me.” the redhead muttered, her nervousness obvious as she made her way towards the sofa the woman had in her office. Glancing outside for a second, the woman stood up with the note in her hands.

“Did you already get used to your new desk?”

“Not yet.”

“You need to make it yours, just like you do with your articles.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I know you will.” Jacqueline sat down in front of the redhead, still holding the paper between her fingers. “Do you know what ivy means, in the language of flowers?”

“It’s… it’s used to apologize.”

“Yes. But it has more meaning than that.” her fingers toyed with the card, her mind thinking about what to say. “It also means that when you may have made a mistake, you are still dependable and committed to fidelity.”

“I… I totally am then.”

“The only dependence and fidelity you should show is to yourself, Jane. Women in our industry need to prove fidelity and commitment to the ideas magazines have. And yet, at  _ Scarlet,  _ we keep proving that we can have fidelity and break the rules at the same time.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“You cannot do that again. Scarlet has very strong rules about personal relationships between the employees.”

“I know.”

“Still,” the woman smirked. “I think that the two of us unexpectedly meeting at  _ Guantanamera  _ this saturday would not be breaking the rules. Let's say at 9?”


	6. Guantanamera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bold Type is back back back, and I'm excited to say that this fanfic is back too!!
> 
> The new chapters will be set where I left, so if you don't remember where we were, take your time to reread the story and ask everything you want to know in the comments! Since the fanfic stopped when Jane was still dating Ben, in the next chapters Jane will still be with Ben (not for long though...). Other things on the show will also happen in the show (BRCA gene drama amongst other things). But, I will update a lot these days so we can catch up where the new episodes are, so no worries my dears.
> 
> Happy reading, and remember to leave a kudo or a comment if you liked the chapter!

_ Guantanamera  _ was something that Jane had never experienced before, a magical place where music and dance coexisted with the scents and taste of Caribbean food. Jane, never having taken interest in anything outside her comfort zone until recently, was amazed by the shiny dresses and the elegant movements of the professional dancers, the loud music that a band played onstage, and the many many children and teenagers that danced near their parents despite the place supposedly being a club. Her simple dress and low heeled shoes made a statement that she did not belong there, but no one seemed to care. For what Jane could see, it seemed that the professional dancers that flooded the dancefloor did not mind dancing next to beginners, and that the waiters smiled all the time despite having too many tables to attend. She felt enchanted by the place, open to anyone who entered and was interested in enjoying the night.

When thinking about a date with Jacqueline Carlyle— because she had daydreamed about that moment all week, maybe even before— she had not imagined themselves eating  _ tamales _ or  _ ropa vieja _ , or dancing in the middle of a dozen couples dressed in bright colored clothes. She had imagined themselves listening to jazz music and having a fancy, quite dinner, getting to know each other. The last thing, they had been doing it, since she was seeing a side of Jacqueline that no one seemed to know about. “These are delicious,” the woman laughed, cleaning the sides of her mouth with a napkin and looking at the girl. It was curious to see the woman outside of the office or a gala, as she looked way less uptight. “Had you ever tried them before?”

“Not really, you know I’m not a big fan of getting out of my comfort zone, not even when it comes to food…”

“Fortune favours the bold, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely, even if you’ve had to spend twenty minutes trying to convince me to eat them.”

“I’d do it a million times.”

“You know, when you told me to meet here at  _ Guantanamera  _ I kinda thought about nachos and guacamole… The place does not look like this when you’re watching it from the other side of the street.”

“Well, I can’t blame you. In this country we are fed day after day that caribbean culture is an equivalent of mexican culture, and it’s way different. There are so many languages, kinds of food, even the clothing can be unique from one culture to another. And, there are so many allegedly mexican food restaurants that are just a bland version of the real food that it’s easy to have that misconception. Julio taught me to distinguish real caribbean and mexican food from their American versions when we met.”

“When did you meet him?”

“Oh, many, many years ago. I was starting in Scarlet and he had his first club. I was asked to write a piece on exotic clubs and restaurants in the city for couples to spend a date night on, so I visited his club and I interviewed him. You know, he needed some exposure in the local media, and I needed to show I was a good writer. So I asked him the usual things, the best dish in the menu, their signature drink, the thing that made the club special…”

“ _ Guantanamera  _ has a signature drink?”

“Well, I’m not talking about this club, this one is a newer one. The club I’m talking about was called  _ La Havana Nights  _ and it was right in the middle of Manhattan. It was amazing, much smaller than this one but with such a unique essence. It’s a shame what happened to it.”

“What happened?”

“A racist group burned the club down a few months after it opened, just when it was starting to become famous.”

“They did  _ what _ ?!” Jane’s mouth fell open. “Why?”

“It was much time ago, and back then the Latino community was not really welcome in certain areas of the city. When I found out I wanted to write an article about it, but of course they did not let me publish it, afraid of any retaliation or reaction from those racist groups. It was a sad moment for Julio, his dream was ruined and it seemed that nothing could be done. Somehow, and luckily, he got another restaurant starting by the end of that same year, even though smaller and without much more than a small dance floor and some lousy speakers.”

“And then?”

“Well, the rest is history. Julio’s clubs are now the most important ones when it comes to caribbean music and food, and even though he has suffered from some racist attacks on his restaurants, his business is growing stronger by the minute.” the woman smiled and took a sip of her beer straight from the bottle, something that Jane had never thought she’d see the woman do. “He has signed an advertising contract with Scarlet. Of course, no one knows this yet in the office.”

“Oh, so I’m the first one to know?”

“Besides from the members of the board, yes.”

“I feel special.”

“Well, you are to me.”

* * *

 

“So salsa has four beats per measure, and your feet move on the first three beats and pause on the fourth, right?” Jane repeated her mentor’s words as the other took a sip from her cocktail, trying to imagine the steps that the woman had explained to her and enunciating them. “Then it’s... one step forward, you move the feet back…” she spoke, moving her hands on the table to represent her feet. “Then one step backwards, movement of the hip, step back... move the hip again, I think? And then you go back into the first position.”

“Yes!” Jacqueline celebrated, taking a sip of her second drink. The large glass of margarita was almost empty now, and so was Jane’s second vodka soda. “It sounds complicated but it’s really easy, I promise.” the woman reassured her. “Wanna go try it?”

“What?”

“You cannot learn how to dance if you don’t actually dance.”

“Oh, but… I mean, learning the steps in my mind, that’s easy. But doing it? I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Come on, Jane. I’ve seen you dance at the Scarlet parties. I know you can dance.” the woman told, emptying her glass. Jane took a sip, her eyes set on the woman. She frowned.

“Wait,” she spoke, leaving her glass on the table as a waiter cleaned their forgotten empty plates. “Have you been watching me dance instead of paying attention to business, Jacqueline?”

“Oh, don’t get cocky.”

“I’m not being cocky, I am just curious about that. It doesn’t sound like you, you’ve always been focused on business at the galas. And since when have you been paying attention to me… that way?”

Taking another sip of her drink and looking at the other, Jacqueline’s eyes met Jane’s as a somehow uncomfortable yet bearable silence appeared. The young girl observed her intently, apparently waiting for an explanation that the blonde was not going to give at first. At least not until she realized she had to give the girl an answer to be able to change the subject somewhat soon. She rolled her eyes and grinned, an idea appearing in her mind. “Okay, I will tell you everything if you dance with me.”

“What?”

“Want to find out more about how I feel about you? Then dance with me. I’ve already taught you how, you just have to put it in practice.”

“That’s not fair.”

Jacqueline stood up, walking around the table and standing next to her, then offering her hand to the girl. Jane looked up at her with doubt, not fully ready to expose her poor dancing skills to the woman, but her curiosity was too much to not to accept the offer. She took the woman’s hand and stood up, coming face to face with the other. She breathed in, suddenly aware of the proximity between them. She stared at the woman’s lips for a split second, feeling her cheeks flush. “Jane…” the woman exhaled heavily, gripping her hand tighter as she looked into her eyes. “Not here, not now.” she managed to whisper despite the urge that came over her. A chill traveled down the girl’s spine and she nodded, biting down her lip.

“I know… let’s… let’s dance?”


	7. We have all night

They walked up the stairs with their fingers interlocked, laughing and holding their third drink with their free hands. Jane still could feel light headed, having had two vodka sodas before dancing. It had been more than an hour and her feet hurt too much, but she did not care as the company made up for it. “Should we even be here?” Jane questioned, looking around her as she realized they were in a staff-only hallway of another building. The skyscraper was next to _Guantanamera,_ and they had to take an elevator to get to the top floor. They walked up a few steps more and came up in front of a black door, where Jacqueline took out a key out of her handbag. “Where are we going?”

“To Julio’s _La Santería,_ his rooftop bar. One of the perks of being friends with Julio is that he lets me come here whenever I want, as long as it is empty and don’t leave anything out of place. He usually rents it for private parties, sometimes even hosts official parties for latino singers and models, but tonight it’s empty. Usually we would take the main entrance, it’s the elevator that had that tall security guard in front of it, but it’s better no one knows we’re here.”

“Because of us, I guess?”

“Because someone might recognize me, and it would not look good if the public found out that Scarlet’s editor-in-chief is sneaking inside of buildings at night with one of her employees. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman. And rumours travel fast in New York City.”

“I understand, really.” the girl walked through the door as Jacqueline held it for her, then reached for the lights. Many strings of fairy lights enlightening the large terrace, making it obvious to the sight that it had a dancefloor, a stage and even a swimming pool. “This place is amazing! And so… quiet.” she noticed, listening to the now distant and muffled sound of cars down in the street, and _Guantanamera_ ’s loud music in the nearby building.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jane grinned, seeing a good opportunity to flirt with the woman. She turned around and grinned. “Just like you.”

“Good one,” Jacqueline said, turning her face to the girl with a laugh and then walking towards her. She took her free hand again and made her follow as they approached a seating area, where Jacqueline put her drink down. The younger woman mimicked her actions and stood next to her, watching the other woman smile. “You really have courage when you’re drunk.” the blonde spoke, raising a brow and taking a step forward, increasing the proximity between them.

“I’m actually only a bit tipsy, but yes, alcohol gives me courage.” Jane said, trying to keep he mischievous tone of the conversation. She bit her lip and looked at the woman. “I guess that since you usually drink neat whiskey, two margaritas do not make you see double.”

“Not really.”

“So you’re like this when you’re not at work?”

“Like this?”

“Flirtatious.”

“No, I’m only _like this_ when I’m on a date.”

“So this is a date.”

“Did you doubt that?”

“A bit. I did not know what was going to happen tonight.”

“What did you want to happen tonight?”

“I wanted you to kiss me.”

“The only reason I did not kiss you before was because we were in public.”

“So will you kiss me now that we’re alone?”

“I will, unless you’re too drunk. Are you?”

“Definitely not.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to do it.”

Putting a hand on the girl’s cheek and slowly pulling her close, Jacqueline moved forward and kissed Jane firmly, her other hand moving to Jane’s hip. She quickly gave the woman’s tongue access to her mouth and corresponded, wrapping her arms around the other and pushing herself closer to her. She fell into the woman’s embrace completely, closing her eyes and letting herself enjoy the moment. She felt warm into Jacqueline’s arms despite the cold breeze on the rooftop, and a smile became obvious in her lips between kisses. She loved the sensation of the woman’s soft lips on her face, a kiss much more delicate than any kiss she had been given, yet strong and firm. It reminded Jane of when she shook hands with Jacqueline, feeling the tender skin and the strong grip of her hands at the same time. After a few seconds they pulled back a second and opened their eyes, looking at each other before Jacqueline moved forward to kiss her again. It was then when it hit Jane— she was kissing her boss, a woman... a _married_ woman.

“Wait, wait.” she spoke, pulling back slightly. Jacqueline looked confused for a second before pulling back too, letting the girl have some space but not fully letting go of her at first. “I really want to talk about this— us— before doing anything.” the shorter girl explained, looking at the other nervously. She wanted to keep kissing, but felt unable to do so. It was not right.

“Of course.” the woman smiled kindly and pulled back, letting her hands linger on top of the other’s body before moving away completely and take a seat. Jane did the same, cleaning some of the lipstick that stained the sides of her mouth and sitting opposite to the woman as Jacqueline took a sip of her drink. “Tell me.”

“Well, you said you’d explain some things if we danced. And we have.”

“Of course.”

“So…”

“What do you want to know?”

Jane furrowed, thinking about where to start. “Why did you kiss me back the day of the gala?” she asked only a few seconds later. She had to admit, that question had been in her mind since the moment she left the toilets at the gala.

“Well, you kissed me first.”

“But you’re married.”

“That did not matter to you when you kissed me.”

“I have to admit I was not thinking straight... No pun intended.” the woman smirked and Jane let out a soft laugh, then went back to her serious tone. She could not let the conversation turn into something flirtatious, she needed answers. “But you did kiss me back despite being married.”

“What you don’t know is, I have what you’d call a… let’s say a non-conventional kind of marriage.”

“What do you mean?” Jane questioned.

“I have an open marriage.”

Jane frowned again, confused by the woman’s words. “An open marriage? As in...”

“As in an open relationship, but we’re actually married to each other.”

“But why have an open marriage and not get a divorce?”

“That’s a long story.”

“We have all night.”

“You’re right. Let me think…”


	8. A trustful relationship

<< Well, as you know Ian and I have been married for more than twenty years. We are happy together, and we love each other. He’s been my soulmate for many many years.

The first time he asked me out, I was not sure if I could let myself get distracted from work, as I had a clear goal that I wanted to achieve as soon as possible. I had my whole career planned, and my personal life too. I had promised to myself that I wouldn’t date anyone for a long time, having had a recent breakup before I started working at Scarlet. It had affected me in a way that I did not like, as I felt that I was not focused enough in my job even months later. That was when Ian asked me out, only to have a coffee and talk a bit, take a break from working too much. I said no at first, but then a few days later I had an awful day at work and decided I actually needed to think about something else than my job. So I called him and we met in a coffee shop, started talking. Everything went great, even though it was not love at first sight. It took me many dates to actually develop attraction towards him, and many months until I fell in love with him. Our relationship grew stronger and we connected in a way I had never connected with someone. He was not only my boyfriend, but he also was my best friend. When he proposed I felt nothing but happiness. We could afford to have a really nice wedding, so we started planning it right away and got married less than a year later. Life was good for me, I had worked hard enough to be able to take a break whenever I needed it, and so did he. He brought kindness and happiness into my life, something I hadn’t had until then. Life was good, and it still is.

But some time later, I started feeling that something was off. We did not have that much intimacy as we used to, and since we knew conversation is the best way to solve marital problems, we talked about it. As much as we loved each other, we both seemed to need something more, but we didn’t know what it was. It was then when I realized I started having feelings for someone else, another man. I decided to be completely open towards him and talk about it, trying to sort out my feelings with him and see how it went. Back in the day we did not really think about going to therapy, because we felt we did not need it. He understood completely how I felt, and it was because he felt the same too. He had started feeling the same way towards another woman, and I have to admit jealousy took the best of me. I never did anything out of respect, and he confessed to me that he had been wanting to be intimate with other women for a while. None of us had taken that step because our trust in each other is too strong to destroy it like that. We had disagreements about what to do, we argued, spent a few weeks away from each other. But we felt empty without each other. Not talking made us become depressed, our friends and family started to notice something was wrong. Rumours started to appear and we started losing the respect our friends had for us. That was when we decided to sit down and see what we could do. We considered a divorce, yes. But it didn’t feel right, we did not want that.

It was then when I met Eudora. She was an older woman, she’d be my current age back then, and was married to a very influential man. I met her at a bar one night I went out with my friends, and she became very flirtatious with me. She did not mind I was married, she told me about how she and her husband did not believe in monogamy— and we started talking about a famous swingers club in the city. I had no idea that kind of clubs existed back then, but apparently there was a whole subculture that celebrated parties and dinners to meet more people and intimate with each other, no strings attached. We kept in contact and met a few more times, sometimes in cafés and sometimes in my house. She became one of my best friends, because she did not judge how I was managing my marriage. She explained to me that entering that world was not a decision that a couple should make to save their marriage, or when they are not intimate. I was about to discard that idea when I found a X-rated magazine that Ian had hidden under the bed— which contained a very graphic article about swinger clubs. I realized Ian knew about that, and decided to talk to him about the possibility.

We sat down and had a very long talk. We spent a whole night talking about what we could and we couldn’t do if we took that path, and we ended up writing a list of rules to follow. I’m not going to list all of them, of course. We started setting boundaries, explained what we were okay with, what we were not okay with. We stated who we would be able to be with, and excluded anyone who could be considered a person close to us. We could only have safe sex, of course, and do nothing that would put ourselves or the other at risk. Never do it in our house, or somewhere public. We would not talk about anything that had to do with the other persons. And many other rules, so many and so specific that I sometimes can’t remember. We used to meet once a month to review the rules and see if something had changed, or if something new had come up. We still do, although only once or twice a year, sometimes only to see that everything is exactly the same as it is.

Our lives changed completely. With a lot of work, after the insecurities of the first months disappeared, our fears of having to get a divorce were left behind. I think about it now and it’s just as if we had gotten a divorce, but kept living together. We started seeing each other as just two friends who loved each other and shared a marriage. I’m not lying when I say Ian is my best friend, I’d trust him with my life. We reached a peak of happiness we didn’t know we could reach, so we decided to  have children. It felt right, to form a family together and to raise a child together. We decided to press pause on our affairs for a while, focus on the baby, then return to our lifestyle when we both were ready. Years have passed, and everything is going just fine. We enjoy our non-conventional marriage and love our family. Ian is a fantastic father, I’m a good mother. We’re a great family, and I would not change a single thing about it.

I know some questions are raised when you are new to this whole situation. Many of them are very easy to answer, so you can ask me anything you need to know. For starters, I want to assure you that you’re not being my other woman or mistress, side-chick or whatever you want to call it. I am not being unfaithful to my husband by doing this, no matter what kind of relationship you and I have, because my marriage is just a paper that two friends signed a long time ago, when they were lovers. Also, as I know many people have issues with it, Ian and I don’t have sex with each other anymore. We feel that our platonic relationship combined with our open marriage make us feel completely satisfied. We share kisses and some displays of affection, both to conceal our open relationship and to show our love in some way, but nothing else. We usually sleep in the same bed when our schedules let us, but considering he travels quite a lot and also spends some nights out of the house, that doesn’t happen often. We do plan to be married for a long time, at least until James and Connor go to college, so that they do not go through the psychological challenge that a divorce can mean.>>


	9. Take me home

“Wow, that’s… that’s quite a lot of information.” Jane said, feeling she had sobered up in just a minute. Jacqueline had been concise about her story, answering most of Jane’s questions but also leaving her with doubts. She processed the information for a few more minutes, a comfortable silence falling on the rooftop. Jacqueline took the chance to answer a few unread messages on the phone, but despite she could hear her own phone buzzing in her purse, Jane dismissed it and went to have a long sip of her drink. She then stood up, starting to walk up and down as she thought. “So, you’ve been doing this for…”

“At least fifteen years, give or take.”

“And when did you fall out of love with your husband?”

“We fell out of love seven years ago, I think.”

“And he’s okay with you…”

“It’s something mutual and consensual.”

“And your children…”

“Don’t know.”

“How many…”

“I cannot give you an exact number for that.” Jacqueline interrupted with a laugh. Jane realised in that moment that fifteen years were too many to keep count. She bit her lip, then turned to the woman. Jacqueline was now facing her, having turned the chair to look at the girl. Her short blue dress revealed her crossed legs and Jane had to stop for a second to catch some air at the sight. Jacqueline was, and had always been, stunning. She shook her head and kept walking up and down.

“And it works? I mean, have you never fallen in love with someone else while doing… that?”

“With my lovers? No, not really. To me it’s always been something sexual, not romantic. It’s hard for a woman my age to find romantic partners, not because of the lack of interest from my suitors, but mostly because of my own lack of interest. I’ve always been focused on my job and my family, and I have never had the interest of taking time to get to meet someone else. I’ve met with certain people for many months, sometimes years, but it has been mostly just sexual encounters. I haven’t had any need to find something romantic, but I do keep many friends that have been my lovers in the past.”

“So no dating, at all. Only sex.”

“Yes.”

“So that’s all we are? Only—”

“No.” Jacqueline interrupted her again. She stood up and walked to the girl, then took her hand and intertwined their fingers. Somehow, Jane took the most youthful side of her, making her aware of feelings she had buried for too long. “That’s the thing, Jane.” she started, swallowing down but continuing to speak with strength. “This is the one situation I wanted most to avoid, for you to think that you’re only a woman I want to have sex with. I haven’t felt any need to find something romantic until I realized I had a crush, as you would call it, on you. It was not long ago, I realized what my feelings towards you meant quite recently... the day you sent roses to my office. Somehow, those roses ignited something I had forgotten I could feel. And I had to promise myself to not to develop a crush on you, but I couldn’t do anything. You have something endearing, something that charms me every moment I’m with you. In the office I can make it seem that I don’t, but I do feel those sparks of flourishing love when I think about you. And I need to see where that goes.”

“That’s… that’s actually very beautiful.” Jane inhaled in deeply and shook her hand, then looked down. Her face was completely red and her mind could not make up any words. “I don’t— I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.” the woman whispered, putting a hand under the girl’s jaw and making her look up. They looked into each other’s eyes for many seconds, falling silent. “We have all night to talk, and we have many things to make clear. But for now, let’s enjoy this moment. No one is here, no one can see us. It’s just us.”

Jane fell into the woman’s kiss easily, her hands moving to the woman’s shoulders as she let the other kiss her. The kiss was slow but passionate, the two of them enjoying the moment with their eyes closed. No one could bother them, no one could see them. No one could come and remind them of the many things that could go wrong because of their kiss. There was no Ben, no Ian, no Sutton or Kat. It was the two of them, kissing each other in a rooftop in Manhattan.

* * *

 

They walked down the steps and into the staff elevator without letting go of each other, forgetting their empty glasses in the rooftop bar and embracing each other as long as they could before the doors opened and they would have to let go. Jane did not want the night to end, but knew that Jacqueline could not be gone forever and had to go home. She knew the nanny would be waiting for the woman to arrive and tip her for the long night, while the only thing that was waiting for her was a decision to make. She had to end things with Ben, but how and when to do it, when the man had always been supportive and good to her? “Everything will be fine,” Jacqueline whispered, sensing her tense in her arms. “Whatever you do, whatever you tell him, you’ll always have your friends to support you. They’ll understand. And you have me too, you know that.”

“I do. Thank you, Jacqueline.”

“No need to thank me, Jane.” the woman whispered, kissing the girl’s hair as she saw how they reached the bottom floor. They broke their embrace and straightened their dresses, then fixed their hair as the door started to open. Walking away, they opened a door and walked to the back of  _ Guantanamera,  _ entering the club again only to cross it and walk out a few moments later, this time through the main door. “I’m going to get you a cab.” she spoke as Jane took her phone out and started reading her messages. Her friends had tried to reach her hours before— but she had been too focused on the date to even realize how much time had passed.

**_[00:33] Sutton: how is it going????_ ** ****_  
_ **_[00:34] Kat: yeah we wanna know_ ** ****_  
_ **_[00:34] Sutton: how’s the restaurant_ ** ****_  
_ **_[00:34] Sutton: is the food good_ ** ****_  
_ **_[00:35] Kat: brb Sutton just reminded me I’m starving_ ** ****_  
_ **_[00:57] Sutton: come on Jane, we want to knooooooow_ ** ****_  
_ **_[01:00] Kat: I think they’re too busy to answer texts ;)_ ** ****_  
_ **_[01:02] Sutton: ugh I hate being single_ ** ****_  
_ **_[01:02] Sutton: I’m also tired_ ** ****_  
_ **_[01:03] Sutton: I’m single AND tired_ ** ****_  
_ **_[01:05] Sutton: going to cry myself to spleep @Jane you better tell us EVERYTHING tomorrow_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_[01:14] Kat: don’t forget, #ScarletZumba tomrrow at 9am, want you both there_

Jane smiled and put her phone away, deciding to not to text back. She really did not want to go to Scarlet’s event the next day, as she felt she’d be somehow hungover from the vodka sodas, but knew Kat needed the support. After all, she had nothing else to do except for working on another of the stupid compatibility tests that had been assigned for her that week. She had to admit, it was good to have easy tasks that made her head out of the recent events in her life. For once she did not feel like writing an extensive investigation article. She looked up as two women walked past her, the colorful yellow colour of their dresses catching her attention. She looked at them, both women waving at Jacqueline before taking out cigarettes and starting to smoke.  _ Guantanamera  _ was starting to close for the night, which put into perspective the many hours that the two women had spent together in the rooftop. It hadn’t mattered that they had run out of drinks, or that the temperature had dropped, they had remained there. Talking, getting to know each other, even dancing without music; nothing else mattered when they were alone.

Smiling to herself, Jane turned to try and find the blonde woman amongst the many people that crowded the street, trying to get taxis or waiting for their Uber. A sea of colorful dresses and suits surrounded her, all adults who had stayed past the youngster’s bedtimes and that now laughed and said goodbye before parting ways. After failing miserably in her mission of finding the woman, she started walking away from the crowd, finally catching a glimpse of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. She turned and looked across the street, seeing a young woman with a pixie cut raise her hand and get into a cab. She sighed, starting to look away before noticing something.

Near where the woman had been and right next to the dumpster, the shadow of a man stood in the middle of the alley. Her heartbeat started to speed up and the air turned cold, a sudden feeling that she was choking making her uneasy. Blue eyes looked at her in the middle of the darkness, her head starting to reel as a voice echoed in her head.

_ “... you’re not getting out of here alive...” _

_ “... gonna be useful tonight…” _

She tried to look away but found herself unable to, her heart pounding. Her necklace pressed against her neck and her breathing became heavy, the images of that night flooding her mind. The distress of remembering the words of a man whose face she could not remember, yet whose voice was so clear, made her legs shake. The feeling of being alone increased, Jacqueline was not there with her. “Jacq— Jacqueline.” she breathed out, starting to walk around, trying to find the woman. Tears starting to run down her face, every second that passed it became harder to breathe. “Jacqueline, please.” she said again, this time sobbing, her vision starting to get blurry. A girl approached her just as she finally recognized the woman next to the road, standing up and holding her hand to signal for a cab to stop. “Jacqueline!” she begged, this time loud enough for her to hear her. The woman turned to face her as her vision became blurry.

“Jane!” the woman screamed, running towards her and taking her in her arms a few seconds later. The girl’s face buried against her chest as she cried, but the warmth of the other’s body was not enough to make her feel better. “Jane, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here, you’re safe.”

The girl hugged her tightly sobbing against her. “Take me home, please.”

“Of course.”


End file.
